Love isn't Everything
by CheLeapofFaith
Summary: Altair is longing to feel the touch of his tower lover, Maria, once again. What happens when they meet..and with another living human with her? AltMar. Mature for future content, I guess.
1. Prologue: She isn't here

**Hai! Its me, Faith. I wrote this in..well, during school Friday and I really hope to continue it. I feel like there's not enough AltMar in this world...sigh. Its my FAVORITE AC couple. Yay. I hope this will be a productive story that I will update every 3 to 4 days hopefully. Well, I'll shut up now. ^^**

**I do not own Assassin's Creed. There. I said it. ;o;**

;o;o;o;o;o;

Prologue: She isn't here

_He felt his heart race as he saw her, his woman and his woman only, beckon him towards her with a playful smirk on her lips. _

_ He knew he shouldn't be feeling this...weird feeling. Was it love? Maybe, it could only explain why he wanted her in his arms and to never leave them. Her pretty brown hair was pulled back in a bun, and her deep brown eyes met his good ones, searching them frantically._

_ She took a step towards him, ad he couldn't hold it back any longer. He rushed at her, their lips crashing against each other awkwardly, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. It was his first kiss, and a good one at that in his opinion. They kissed each other hungrily, and with a jolt he knew exactly what she wanted, and he was just about to give it to her._

_ He felt himself getting pulled to the ground on a soft patch of hay. Somehow he ending on top, and she smiled against his lips. His tongue demanded entrance, and she opened her mouth partly, moaning slightly. She looked so beautiful under the moonlight and-_

Altair shot up in his bed, sweat clinging to his body. There was loud pounding at the door, and he decided that's what woke him up from his wonderful dream. He sighed, blinking sleep from his eyes, longing to feel her next to his side again. His lovely, beautiful Maria. Altair wondered if she missed him as much as he missed her.

The Assassin got up, dressing quickly and opened the door to see Malik, his one armed...friend, you could say.

"Liking to sleep in nowadays, master?" Malik grinned boyishly at Altair, and he rubbed his eyes in response. Malik just chuckled and turned, walking away. The Master Assassin sighed again, following him. "This is gonna be a long day," he muttered, trying to get Maria's beautiful image out of his mind.

;o;o;o;o;o;

**There. Short, but Merry Christmas. Happy Easter, Happy Birthday, Happy Halloween, whatever. xD**


	2. Chapter 1: Depressing Day

**'Ello mates. Okay, I'm here.(And not british). Hi. I'm trying to make up for the 488 words of FAILURE of the prologue in this story. Sowwy. I really thought 2 pages of notebook pages would be long...jesus was I wrong? x_x And I don't even write that big. So, I started this chapter on notebook paper, didn't finish it, so I'll finish it in Libre Office and post it tonight because I'm a good-**

**OKAY I NEED TO SHUT UP. -_-;**

**I do not own Assassin's Creed. If I did, there would be more AltMar. :**

;o;o;o;o;o;

Chapter 1

Altair ran a hand through his soft, short brown hair, his gold eyes frantically searching over the apple, wondering to himself what mysteries it's secretly holding. He wanted to find out so bad but all it looked like was a ball; a ball that meant nothing.

His mind switched to what happened after killing his "beloved" Master, Al Mualim. The man that had pretty much became his father when Altair was a child and teenager, the man that stabbed him and called him a traitor, the man that sent him off to regain his rank once again, had been the traitor all along. To be honest, Altair kind of got said when he thought about it. Al Mualim had gotten his life taken bu Altair's blade, even though he didn't expect him too.

"No...this can't be happening...the student can't defeat his master..." The traitor's voice echoed into the newly-named Master Assassin's head.

"Nothing is true, everything is permitted," were Altair's final words to his "Master" before the last breath left Al Mualim's body.

But the thing that really bothered him was what the apple did after the traitor had passed away. A faint gold light had shot up into the air, creating what looked like...a spherical shape. That was their world that is had shown. _What did that mean? _The question came up again, and again, and again. As quickly as it came, it had stopped...

The white-robed man shook himself out of his thoughts as he heard footsteps approaching his desk. Altair pulled his honey-golden eyes away from the apple, and looked up to see his one-armed friend, Malik, walking swiftly towards him. Altair growled under his breath, already annoyed when Malik hadn't even said anything.

"Still obsessing over the apple, I see?" He said as he finally reached the Master Assassin.

All he did was roll his eyes in response, muttering a few words in Arabic under his breath. He stood up, pacing by the window, looking out of it, obviously in deep thought.

"Ah, I see," Malik started to speak again, understanding even though no words were shared. Altair realized with a jolt that Malik really did know him. After all, they have been friends since Altair was ten, and Malik was twelve.

"I think I'm going to take Mereria," the Master Assassin finally replied; Mereria was his faithful, beautiful brown mare, "And go to Jerusalem."

All Malik did was nod, "Of course, Novice," he said was an evil grin.

"Why must you still call me that? I am your Master, I'm not an immature novice anymore!" Altair shot a death glare at him.

"I guess it has caught on. My dear apologies, 'Master'," Malik smirked, while Altair growled again, but this time it was loud enough for the one-armed man to hear.

"Ready my horse, Malik," He said to him, "And I expect to leave by sundown."

Malik nodded and turned, leaving Altair's vision without a word.

;o;o;o;o;o;

Mereria trotted swiftly on the path to Jerusalem, and Altair sighed, rubbing his eyes before stretching. It had been a long day of staring at the apple and even though it doesn't sound hard, its a very hard thing to figure out exactly what is holds inside of it.

Altair had put Malik in charge of the Brotherhood, he would only be gone for about a week, but you never knew. Somehow the Templars would find out and attack the village. He put their fate in his hands; he just hoped he wasn't making a big mistake. Oh, who was he kidding? Malik was a trusted friend, no matter how annoying the man was.

The only reason that he is going to Jerusalem is to think. He needed to think about Maria...Oh, his beloved Maria. The Maria he had made love to. Altair regretted leaving her. It had been two years since that night, and it felt like just yesterday he was chasing her up the tall tower, seeing her delighted face when she laid her brown eyes on him.

It was starting to get dark when Altair broke out of his thoughts. He looked up at the sky, frowning before pulling on Mereria's reigns, steering her to the side of the road. The Master Assassin got off quickly, grabbing the bags that were connected to the horse. He sighed, doing his routine that he did almost every time he traveled to places like Acre or Damascus.

It wasn't long until the fire was casting a beautiful light that surrounded Altair. His stomach was full, and it was getting late, as he noticed the moon getting higher and higher in the star-sparkled midnight sky. His eyes drooped, and he stretched before laying on the ground, covering himself with a blanket he had packed; it tended to get very cold at night, even though it was scorching hot during the day. All he wanted was to sleep.

But the whole time it took Altair to fall asleep, he couldn't help noticing that he wanted a certain someone by his side.

_Maria..._

;o;o;o;o;o;

**Woohoo! I did it! You're welcome, fellow readers! No need to thank me! ^_^**

**See you at the next update! Don't forget to R&R! I greatly appreciate it! **


	3. Chapter 2: Did I hear you right?

**Okay. I admit it. I'm sorry. You can hate me. I have no excuse this time for not updating for forever. Actually, I do. I started typing this chapter up like last weekend cause I couldn't sleep, it didn't save, and it randomly closed out. I was so pissed. Now I'm trying again and gonna be saving every 3 minutes. Anyways, I'll shut up now.**

* * *

><strong>DISCLAIMER: I don't own Assassin's Creed. ..I know, it's depressing. ;;<strong>

Chapter 2: Did I hear you right?

The next morning, with the fire being put out and everything packed and ready to go on Mereria, Altaïr set off once more towards Jerusalem. He would most likely reach the lively city by mid-day, when the flaming sun would be highest in the sky, its heat radiating onto the assassin, sweat dripping down his forehead. He could already feel it happening even though it was early in the morning.

_Can't say I'm too happy about it... _he thought silently to himself while whipping his faithful mare's reins, causing them to take off into a gallop. He wanted to hurry up and get to Jerusalem, longing to walk around the clustered streets freely.

Altaïr didn't really know why he left Masyaf, maybe because of..._her. _He wanted to forget his tower lover so badly, knowing she'll just get into his way from work. This way he was feeling was obviously not good if he wanted to remain Grand Master, but he couldn't just..stop it. She was too important to him to just be pushed back where he could get on in life, as a master assassin looking after his people. But maybe he could rule with a woman next to him. He never thought this would happen; he never expected himself to fall in "love". So why can't it be like that anymore? The love, it was a feeling that is too strong to ignore.

"I wonder where she went after that night..." Altaïr found himself talking to himself, a thing him almost never did unless in a deep thought. He shook himself out of them, his mind now fully set on going to Jerusalem.

;o;o;o;o;o;

He blinked the bright sun out of his eyes as he cautiously made his way around people crowding the dirt street. Altaïr rubbed his eyes, realizing he got no sleep the night before It had been a dreamless, quick sleep, which is strange for him because for the past few weeks he's been having that dream up on the tower at least every night. He didn't know if he should be disappointed or glad he didn't have one. Altaïr sighed once more, trying hard not to let sleep take over him as he silently made his way to the Assassin's Bureau.

;o;o;o;o;o;

His body landing down in the Bureau when he jumped from the roof caused dust to shoot up from under his feet. Altaïr grunted at the impact, brushing dirt from his newly cleaned robes, and made his way into the main room.

"Greetings, Rafiq," Altaïr stated, and the man turned around, nodding his head thoughtfully.

"Ah, Altaïr, a little bird told me you would arrive today."

The master assassin nodded, and replied, "I figured as much."

"Yes, yes. Well, you're welcome to rest and heal here, as always."

Altaïr nodded wearily in response, bid goodnight and exited the room, crouching onto the many pillows, laying down not long afterwards. It saddened him every time he slept alone, wish for Maria to be by his side once again, where she belonged and always would be. He closed his golden eyes after adjusting the fluffy pillows on the ground before sleep crashed over him like a wave.

;o;o;o;o;o;

The bright sun shining down on Altaïr woke him up the next morning. He stretched, trying to blink the well needed sleep out of his eyes before standing up, walking into the other room. He noticed the Rafiq was gone, and the assassin decided he went to the market to get more supplies and food. Altaïr's gaze moved to the bread on the counter, and he gratefully bit into it, his stomach satisfied at the filling for breakfast.

When the assassin was done, he pulled himself up the wall of the Bureau, feeling the heat hit him, and Altaïr self-consciously wiped his forehead, knowing the sweat would soon form. He broke into a run, feeling his adrenaline pumping as he jumped gracefully from roof to roof.

He heard a cry of a citizen getting harassed, and he sighed softly, his hate for the guards growing more effective as they accuse innocent men and women when they haven't done anything wrong. Altaïr clenched his fists, then flicked his hidden blade, and the sharp object shot out into the place where his left ring finger should be. He flexed slightly, getting ready to jump on the selected guard.

Altaïr moved quickly, jumping off the building and landed on the particular guard, his blade going in and out of his neck, causing blood to pour out of the dead man's wound. He smirked under his hood, then unsheathed his sword, getting into his regular fighting stance as the rest of the guards, three of them, surrounded the assassin.

_Not a problem. _He thought to himself, grinning evilly.

He heard movement from behind him, and he instinctively whipped around, his sword clashing against his opponents, and they both jumped back. Altaïr watched the guard's moves, and when he finally lashed out at the white-robed man, he ducked, and spun around, slicing the man's leg, followed by a blow to his back.

When the guards were laying dead around him, he put his sword back in its holder hanging by his hip. Altaïr let out a big sigh, then turned to face the person he had saved. It was a woman, with dark brown hair down below her shoulders and deep, bright brown eyes. When his gold eyes met hers, he couldn't stop staring. His jaw dropped and she crossed her arms across her chest, and said, "What are you staring at, hm?" That accent filled the space around him, and for one second, Altaïr couldn't breath.

"Maria.." He finally managed to choke out and her eyes widened.

"...Altaïr? Is that you?"

For a moment, he hesitated. She was here, the woman he loved, right in front of him. Was he dreaming? He pinched himself and shook his head. There was no way, this was real. She was real. _They_ were real. All Altaïr wanted to do was wrap his arms around her and never let go, but he wasn't sure how Maria would react to that. It had been two years, and he had left her.

They stood staring at each other, until he heard a noise. The mysterious sound sounded like..was that a child? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a little boy, not even two years old, with short, dark brown hair run clumsily out from behind a tall building.

"Mama!" The child cried out, clinging to Maria's leg. Altaïr stared in shock. Were those...gold eyes?

_Oh no..._ He thought, turning his gaze to Maria.

"Maria is that..?" Altaïr couldn't even finish his question.

She sighed, running a hand through the little boy's hair and nodded, replying, "Yes, Altaïr. This is your son."

;o;o;o;o;o;

**OHHH WHAAAAATTTT. Cliffhanger. :o I'm very proud of myself. You guys this was a whole two pages not including this A/N! YOU'RE WELCOMEEEE! Hahaha! I promise it won't take me as long as it did to update.**

**~Until the next update!**


	4. Chapter 3: I don't even

**Sup moesackras? Woowww I spelt that wrong. I've been working on this ALL week, this will be my longest chapter yet! Hope ya like it!(cause if you don't I'm going to go into a state of untold depression).**

**DISCLAIMER: I need to stop saying these. **

;o;o;o;o;o;

Chapter 3: I don't even...

"...Come again?" Altaïr blinked his unusual honey-gold eyes at her, barely hearing the whisper that had just come out of his mouth.

"His name is Darim. I would tell you more but...not with his here," Maria explained softly, patting her- no, _their _son's head, picking him up in the process.

With a jolt, the assassin remembered the dead guards surrounding them.

"Quickly, this way," he breathed, putting a hand on Maria's back, steering the two towards to bureau. Altaïr noticed that when he had stepped close to her, Darim shrunk back into Maria's arms; the child must of seen Altaïr kill the guards. He sighed, knowing the boy must be scarred for life.

The three were quiet the way there, except of the occasional sniff from Darim, which caused Maria's motherly instinct to come in, shushing him and explaining that it was going to be okay.

"He won't hurt you," she cooed, sending a hard glare towards Altaïr over Darim's head, "Under all that tough, a nice, caring man is found."

Darim nodded in response, cautiously moving his head so he could get a good look at the mysterious man.

Altaïr looked down at himself, trying to see what the child was seeing. White robes, unseen because of the blood covering them. Weapons stashed everywhere, hidden or in plain sight. He soon realized he wasn't making the greatest impression on Darim with a sigh.

The master assassin could feel his gold gaze never leave him the entire way there. He finally looked at him, a questioning look in his eyes and Darim quickly looked away, acting like he was never staring. Altaïr looked up at Maria and saw laughter flooding her brown eyes, and he couldn't help but feel amused as well.

They reached the ladder and the white-robed man contemplated how they were going to do this.

"Here, hand him here," Altaïr spoke first, and Maria gave the child to him.

"I'm gonna put you on my back, and you gotta hold onto my neck really tight so you won't fall off, okay?" Altaïr spoke slowly to the boy, and when he nodded, the assassin helped him go onto his back. Darim wrapped his tiny arms around Altaïr's neck, and he broke off into a run, climbing the side of the wall carefully, pulling him and his extra weight over the edge.

"Down! Down!" Darim said excitedly, and Altaïr crouched down and let him sit on the ground as Maria made her way up the ladder, reaching them. The boy's eyes lit up when he saw her, and she smiled in return.

"See?" Darim asked, pointing at Altaïr, who looked confused.

"I did, love!"

"Can you jump down?" the assassin asked her and she nodded curtly, grabbing the child and leapt down, landing safely in the Bureau, and Altaïr followed, a smirk forming.

He pushed past them, entering the main room first. The rafiq looked at him.

"Ah, Altaïr, you're back," the man of the Bureau said, sending a half-smile his way.

"Listen, rafiq," Altaïr started, telling him everything that had happened earlier.

He listened intently, staring at the assassin with an understanding look in his kind eyes.

"I see. They are welcome to stay or go, whatever they decide to do," he said.

Altaïr nodded and motioned for Maria and Darim to come in. The boy's eyes were wide with wonder, and Altaïr guessed that he hadn't seen much of the world yet for being so young. Maria set him down and he started to clumsily explore the Bureau.

"Hi there little one, what's your name?" the rafiq crouched in front of the child, stopping him from trying to eat on of the chess pieces. Altaïr watched them, amused.

"Darim!" the boy replied, proud to know how to at least pronounce his name; it was written all over his face.

As the two started a conversation, Altaïr turned his attention to Maria. She looked pale(well, paler then usual), leaning up against the wall.

"What's wrong?" he asked, taking a step towards her.

"Just a scratch, it's nothing," she said, wincing slightly.

"Show me," he demanded, and she sighed, defeated. Maria rolled her tunic up to below her breasts, revealing a long, deep cut. Altaïr's eyes widened.

"Rafiq!" he barked out, and the man came rushing over.  
>"Oh my. Come, dear, lay on the pillows!"<p>

Maria leaned heavily on Altaïr while he guided her to the other room, helping her lay onto the pillows scattered around the floor.

Darim, getting bored with the chess pieces, waddled his way over to the commotion. The minute he say his mother, tears rushed to his familiar gold eyes. _Poor kid... _Altaïr thought while watching the rafiq work on Maria's wound. He clenched his fists, wishing he had decided on a more painful fate for the guards that did this to her.

"We're going to have to stitch it together so it doesn't get infected," The rafiq explained to the master assassin, shaking him from his thoughts.

By now, Maria had passed out from the pain and exhaustion, making it easier to work on her.

Altaïr was staring at her for so long, he didn't notice Darim crawl into his lap, curling up into a tight ball. He patted his head and whispered something the boy wouldn't be able to hear.

"I'm sorry..."

;o;o;o;o;o;

Altaïr must of dozed off, because he woke up with a jolt, the full moon high in the sky, shining down on the bureau. Darim was sleeping soundly in his lap, curled up like a cat, breathing deeply. For a second the assassin was confused, but shook the feeling away quickly.

He switched his gaze to Maria. Her side was covered with bandages, but she was sleeping, a peaceful look on her face. He smiled for a short moment before leaning back against the wall, watching over them, not wanting to lose them again.

;o;o;o;o;o;

"Alty! Up! Up!"

Altaïr groaned and swatted the air with his hand, rolling over.

"Alty! Up!" After three times and a few kicks to add, the assassin opened his eyes and found himself staring into his same gold eyes.

"'Inally!" Darim said excitedly, jumping up and down.

Altaïr grunted, sitting up and rubbed his head, running a hand through his short brown hair. Maria was watching the pair with amusement.

"That's his new nickname for you, Alty. Good one, Darim. It's cute," Maria smirked.

"Danks mama!" Darim grinning, a few teeth showing that have grown in over the year, and Maria smiled at the child.

"I see you're feeling better," Altaïr commented, standing up slowly, feeling tired, even though he had just awoken.

"I can't leave for a few days, though. Rafiq doesn't want me straining the wound," Maria informed him. She spoke quickly, and Altaïr honestly couldn't tell if she hated him or if she had forgave him yet. They really needed to talk, but not in from of Darim. The look Maria gave him said that she agreed with him.

Darim watched the two adults with wide eyes, and Altaïr sighed.

"Are you hungry?" He spoke to them quietly.

"Yes! Yes!" Darim chanted.

"I'll have to go to the market, though. It might be a while."

"I go too?" Darim asked, and Altaïr looked at Maria for permission.

"Be careful, and listen to everything Altaïr tells you, okay?" She nodded in response.

"Okay."

"Come on, kid. Get on my back so we can get out of here," Altaïr commanded and Darim did as he was told, already following his mother's orders.

"We'll be back," the assassin promised as they climbed out of the Bureau, into the fresh Jerusalem air.

The awkward silence filled over them as they made their way to a stand of food.

"So, how has your mother been?" Altaïr asked, looking down at the boy.

"Been 'lright," he replied, blinking his eyes against the bright, morning sun, "Mama sometimes sad about baba though."

"Oh really?" (A/N: When Maria told Alty, Darim didn't hear to he doesn't know that Altaïr is his father ANYWAYS). The boy didn't respond and Altaïr figured that he had hit a soft spot underneath all of his hyperness.

Altaïr sighed, wondering what Maria had told Darim about himself. Looks like he wouldn't be getting any answers soon.

Darim kept stealing glances at the assassin so much that Altaïr became annoyed. He had truthfully never liked kids but had planned to have some to keep the genes trending. The boy didn't even seem like he had assassin material in him; just though life was full of happiness. Though that is expected at an age so young.

Altaïr felt himself growing closer to the young boy. What would happen if Maria left him, angry for leaving her that night, to raise the baby alone.

"We're here," Altaïr announced, "Stay close to me. We don't want you taken." Darim nodded at him in response, sticking to the older man's side.

The assassin pushed his way to the front, and after bargaining with the seller, they started walking back to the Bureau with food for breakfast.

;o;o;o;o;o;

After the trio ate breakfast, Altaïr and Maria sat in absolute silence. The rafiq was trying to explain chess to Darim, but was failing miserably.

"I'm sorry," Altaïr stated simply, and Maria quickly looked at him, her eyes distant.

"You left me, Altaïr. I never saw you again for years. I raised _your _child by myself," she said in a low voice, although her eyes were full of flames, and continued, "You make love to me and leave me to fend for myself. And you expect me to forgive you?"

The assassin didn't say anything, except stare at her in shock from her outburst.

"But Darim has taken a liking to you. I always thought you would make a good father. I'll stick around for now, but don't try anything funny."

"Why doesn't he know? Haven't you told him about me?" Altaïr questioned, watching the boy try to understand what the rafiq was saying to him.

"He's too young. I don't want him to grow up thinking his father didn't think he was important. You tell him when you think he's ready to take the news," she responded.

She looked sad and Altaïr felt guilt build up inside him.

"I'll try my best," he promised.

"He looks exactly like you. Those strange, gold eyes, and the dark brown hair. Even the same personality," Maria said, fondly gazing at Darim.

"You're comparing me to a kid?" he asked her flatly.

"No, I'm comparing you to your son, Altaïr. I'm sure he'll be just as good of an assassin like you are."

"You want him to become one?" Shock filled his deep voice.

"Of course, its the best thing for him, and me. At least I won't have to spend every little second with him," Maria replied.

"You do know he'd have to wait till he's seven to begin training, correct?" Altaïr informed her, and she nodded.

"Very well, we'll leave for Masyaf tomorrow morning," he said. It seemed a God had taken pity on him and gave him more time with Maria and Darim. Even though he wasn't religious, he silently thanked one of them for this opportunity. He was not going to screw it up this time.

The rest of the day blew past in a blur, it full of Darim asking questions nonstop about chess and bother all three adults.

Soon the sun was being replaced by the moon, gradually getting higher in the midnight colored sky. The rafiq bid goodnight and retired into his room, while the three were left to share the pillows on the ground. Mother and son curled up together, falling asleep right when they laid down. Altaïr felt a longing to join them, but he knew he would get slapped by Maria. He would be alone for now.

;o;o;o;o;o;

Once the trio woke up, ate breakfast, and changed Maria's bloodied bandages, they set off back to Masyaf. Altaïr grabbed his horse, Mereria, and bought another mare for Maria and Darim. The little boy's eyes were wide with wonder, looking at the tall, lean animals.

"Hasn't he seen a horse before?" Altaïr asked, giving Maria a confused expression.

"Sure he has, but he was asleep when we last rode, so he doesn't remember," she replied.

"I see. You need help, kid?"

Darim nodded once and Altaïr picked him up effortlessly, setting him on the saddle.

"I'm uber tawl!" he squeaked out, his gold eyes sparkling with excitement, and the assassin chuckled slightly, turning to Maria.

"Do you need help as well? We don't want you straining your wound even more," he asked her carefully, after a moment of hesitation, she nodded. He grabbed her by the waist, putting her behind Darim.

Once he mounted Mereria, the two horses set off towards his home, trotting side by side.

The trio was silent, but it was more of a comfortable silence then awkward. Altaïr noticed that Darim fell asleep, leaning back on Maria. He smiled quickly, it fading as soon as it came. He sighed; he couldn't wait to get home.

;o;o;o;o;o;

They reached Masyaf's gates in two days time, which wasn't that bad of a trip.

"Halt! Who goes there?" A guard on the left side spoke first.

"Your master, idiot," Altaïr growled, and the guard gasped.

"A-Ah, sorry master, I didn't recognize you," the man stammered.

"I know Talid," the assassin replied, and the guard next to Talid snickered at the young man. Altaïr ignored them and got off of Mereria, helping Darim and Maria off of theirs. After putting the horses in the stables, they entered the medium-sized city.

Darim ran up to the two adults after he got pushed away by the walking citizens, clinging to Maria's hand.

"Stay close and you won't get lost," Altaïr explained to the young boy, patting his head quickly, and Darim nodded, listening to the older man's advice.

As they reached the stairs that led up to the castle, a man greeted them.

"Altaïr, you're back!" Malik greeted his friend, patting with shoulder with his only arm, grinning wide, "...Who are they...?"

Altaïr had dreaded this moment, and he sighed, rubbing his temples.

"This is Maria and Darim," he stated quickly, looking at them before gesturing to the one-armed man, "Meet Malik."

"Hi!" Darim said, "Where be arm?" he asked, pointing at Malik's stub for an arm.

"None of your business, kid," Malik glared at him, then turned to Altaïr, "I deserve an explanation."

"Akal! Show Maria and Darim where they will be staying!" Altaïr commanded to a young looking assassin that was passing by, and he nodded, motioning to Maria to follow.

"Bye, Alty!" the boy chimed, bouncing away with the adults.

"Alty?" Malik questioned, giving him a strange look, "Ugh, never mind. Maria, is she the woman you have been fantasizing over for the past two years?

Altaïr nodded.

"That's your son, isn't it?"

He nodded again.

"Why in the world would you bring them here?"

"Malik, don't question. Darim doesn't know I'm his father, so if you even mention it, I will cut off your tongue," Altaïr threatened, glaring at him.

Malik nodded, understanding immediately. The master assassin told him the story of meeting Maria and Darim, and everything else after it.

"So, she wants Darim to train to become an assassin?" the one-armed man asked thoughtfully.

"That's what she told me," Altaïr replied, shrugging, "and honestly, I wouldn't want it any other way."

And with that, Altaïr slowly made his way to his desk, having enough adventures for one week.

;o;o;o;o;o;

The assassin's head shot up quickly, and he sighed. That had been the second time he had fallen sleep, trying to figure out once again the mysteries the apple held. He looked up when he heard footsteps, and his gold eyes met Maria's dark brown ones. Darim was next to her, looking half asleep like his father.

"Wha-" his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, "What's wrong?"

"Poor thing had a nightmare and won't go back to sleep. I figured you would be awake, so that's why we're here," Maria explained.

Altaïr felt ad for the boy. Midnight had just passed, so that meant no sleep for him.

_That goes for two of us... _He thought, sighing.

"Still worrying about that?" She indicated towards the apple, and the assassin nodded. Countless hours of staring still hadn't paid off. It really just looked like a ball. A normal ball that he was obsessing over. He sighed again, aggravated and tired. He put his head on his desk, letting the apple fall on the ground defeatedly.

The room burst into gold light, and Altaïr whipped his head up, seeing a huge gold portal. He quickly took a look around and didn't see Maria or Darim. Before he could panic, the room was engulfed and everything went black.

;o;o;o;o;o;

A big monster roared past the assassin, causing him to wake up from being unconscious. He forced his gold eyes open, only to be staring straight into the star-sparkled sky. He could hear voices everywhere, and saw figures walk past him giving the assassin weird looks.

Altaïr forced himself up, took a deep breath, then observed his surroundings. He gasped at what he saw.

Big buildings towering over him, lights shining everywhere. Huge metal monsters drove on a huge black gravel, which looked like it would stretch on forever and ever, never ending. People swarmed around him, wearing weird and very revealing clothing.

"Ugh...where am I?" he muttered, then figured standing around wasn't going to help him. Altaïr approached a pretty woman, hoping she'll have answers.

"Um, could you tell me where I am? What year is it?" he spoke, blinking his eyes at her.

"You're in Miami, Florida. And the year is 2011," she replied, snorting, "Stupid drunks!" And with that being said, she continued on, leaving a rather confused assassin behind her.

He shook his head, confused. There was no way he could be in the future. How did...wait. With a jolt, Altaïr realized Maria and Darim were nowhere to be seen.

"I have to find them..but, they could be anywhere.."

Altaïr sighed and picked a random direction and made his way to the sand-colored pavement.

;o;o;o;o;o;

He had been wandering for hours. Altaïr was tired, grumpy, and not to mention he was starving. His stomach growled constantly, and he thought it would eat him inside out.

For the first time, the fearless Grand Master was ready to admit defeat. Ut his new family urged him to not give up. He would search endlessly for them, even if it meant costing his own life.

He perked up, getting that strange feeling that someone was watching him. Altaïr flicked his hidden blade for a moment.

"I know you're there, so come out!" he called out into the empty streets, and a figure stepped out of the darkness surrounding him.

She was a girl, a young woman maybe, that wore strange clothing just like everyone else around here. Her long, dark brown hair was tied up, and her green eyes blinked at him, confused.

"How did you know?" she squeaked out.

"Just a feeling," he answered. She stared at him, but not like the other people's glances. She looked like she pitied him. He would take it for now.

"Are you lost?"  
>"You could say that, yes."<p>

"Where are you going?" She stared at her feet.

Altaïr shrugged in response, not knowing how to answer.

"Oh, I see. I'm Danielle Grayner. You look exhausted. Maybe you should come with me..." she introduced herself.

He gave her a strange look. Could he trust her? She seemed harmless but you never know. Finally, exhaustion took over him, and he found himself nodding. Danielle smiled sadly.

"Alright, follow me," she replied.

Altaïr stumbled most of the way, trying to keep himself steady. He was angry at himself for becoming so vulnerable, but he honestly couldn't help it. The throbbing in his head, that bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, would just not go away.

Soon, Danielle stopped in front of a huge, weird looking house, then stepped inside.

"You can sleep now. The bedroom is right down the hall. Sleep well," she said, and Altaïr nodded.

He pushed open the door and flung himself onto the inviting bed, curling up tightly.

A bed had never felt comfier.

;o;o;o;o;o;

**OHMYGOD I DID IT. Seven pages long. Longest chapter yet. YOU'RE WELCOME!**

**Please review. You honestly don't know how good it makes me feel.**

**~Until the next update!**


	5. Chapter 4: Losing hope

**WOOOOOOOOOWWW 'Sup readers. Cough. I really have nothing to say except...don't be as confused this time on this chapter! SILLY NUGGETS.**

**DISCLAIMER: I'm tired of putting these. Ugh.**

;o;o;o;o;o;

Chapter 4: Losing Hope

Altaïr woke with a start, sweat sticking to his skin, making his underclothing cling to him. He took a deep breath, shaken by the dream he had.

"Going to the future? That's preposterous!"

But as he took a look around the room, his golden eyes widened in shock. It wasn't a dream, it hadn't been a dream. It was real, everything was real, and Maria and Darim were not with him.

The assassin sat up, running a hand though his hair. The sun shined through the glass connected to the wall, telling him he slept in. Altaïr tried to ignore all the things that looked strange to him. He figured the girl could explain later. He stood up slowly, and exited the room.

He was greeted by the wonderful smell of food cooking. Altaïr's stomach growled, and he quickened his pace towards it.

Danielle was in the kitchen, hovering over a big metal square. What in the world was that?  
>"What...is that?" he asked, pointing at the device, "what is this sorcery?"<p>

The girl turned around at his voice, and smiled, saying, "Oh, you're up. That's great! Oh, and this? It's a stove. Surely you should know that?"

When Altaïr stared at her, she laughed and said, "Don't worry about it. You should clean up, please follow me."

She left the "stove" and led him to another room. It was fairly small and barely fit both of them in there.

"This is a bathroom. It's where you, well, bathe," Danielle explained, "and this is a shower. It's like a bath, but the water pours down on you instead."

Altaïr watched her intently as she explained how to work it. It seemed easy enough.

"And here are your clothes," she said, handing him a bundle of fabric.

"Breakfast will be ready when you are done," said Danielle, then backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

He stared at the door, then shook his head. The assassin took off his weapons, then shrugged himself out of his robes. He carefully got in the shower, letting the water run down his body. He sighed in relief as the cool water touched his skin.

After a few minutes of washing, he got out and towel-dried. Picking up the clothes, Altaïr stared at them with disgust. He put them on after getting the idea of which piece of clothing went where. The fabric his pants were made out of were rough and uncomfortable to his skin, and the tunic clung to him. Altaïr snorted, feeling ridiculous and embarrassed as he walked out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen.

Danielle turned around and pointed to the table where food was waiting. The Master Assassin sat down and stared at the contents that filled his plate. He took a bite, chewing slowly. He finished the rest, deciding that it wasn't half-bad.

"So, who are you?" She spoke first, "I told you my name, so tell me yours."

Altaïr hesitated before answering her, "I'm Altaïr Ibn'La-Ahad."

Her eyes widened, "That's a mouthful!"

He chuckled quietly, not helping but feeling sorry for the girl.

"So it is."

She stared at him, "And you're not from here, right?"

"You could say that I'm a long way from home," the assassin grimaced as he said that. The statement was partially true, at least.

"Where are you from?" Danielle asked, shifting her gaze from him to her lap.

"Masyaf, Syria."

Her mouth opened to form an "o" and she replied, "The Middle East? ...Masyaf broke apart a couple hundred years ago. As far as I know, it's just a ruined, deserted city."

Altaïr took a sharp intake of breath in shock. He mentally kicked himself. Why didn't he think of something else to say? Now he's going to have to tell her. He sighed, running a hand through his short hair.

"I'm not from this time," he mumbled, and when Danielle gave him a look, he continued, "this is not my time. I'm from the year 1193." Altaïr avoided her gaze, but shot up to stare at her when she spoke up.

"...Impossible..."

"No, it is. I have proof. My clothing, not knowing what anything is. I can't believe I'm saying this, but you have to believe me. You're the only person I know here..." Their eyes met, gold and green together, and when she nodded, he knew she believed him. He let out a sigh.

"But you must answer some questions of mine," she replied and when he nodded slowly, she said, "why were you armed with so many weapons?"

The assassin cursed under his breath. He had hoped that she hadn't noticed when they first met, but he was wrong.

"I'm an assassin," he decided to just let it out, but Altaïr felt uneasy when she did nothing but stare at him. Fear filled her gaze, and she shrunk back against the chair she was sitting in. Soon, determination took fear's place in her eyes.

"Prove it." she said.

That's all he needed. In a flash, he was up. Pulling her with him, and he pushed her up against the wall, his body pressing into her backside and his hidden blade up to her throat. She let out a choked gasp, and he felt guilty for hurting her.

"Still don't believe I'm an assassin?" he breathed out into her ear softly, and when she shook her head, he let go of her, flicking his hidden blade back in.

"Okay, so, you murder people for no reason-" Danielle began, but Altaïr interrupted her.

"We kill for people who deserve it. We don't think ourselves as 'bad', we are trying to maintain peace in the world," he explained to her.

"Right, whatever. So, does that mean you're going to kill me?"

The Master Assassin stared at her with amusement, chuckling.

"There are three rules we have. First, never compromise the Creed. Second, hide in plain sight. And thirdly, never harm an innocent. You are counted as one. I won't kill you."

She nodded, relaxing a little.

"So, how did you get here?" Danielle asked, curious.

So Altaïr told her the whole story, about the Apple(not much of course) and how it had sent him, Maria, and Darim here mysteriously.

"My...friends were sent here as well, but I can't find them. Have you seen them anywhere?" he asked, hoping she would say yes, but sadly, it was the opposite answer that he got instead.

"No, I haven't," she said, sighing, "but what do they look like? I'll keep an eye out for them."

"Um, Maria is probably twenty-two, with dark brown hair that she pulls back and brown eyes. Darim is around two, a hyper child that looks exactly like myself, gold eyes and everything." he described them easily, their images floating in his head.

"Is Darim your son?" she asked him softly, green eyes glowing with sympathy.

Altaïr's gaze was clouded, and he nodded, speaking hoarsely, "My family..."

"How about we look for them? They have to be around here somewhere!"

The assassin tried to share her enthusiasm, but he couldn't help but think that if they didn't find them soon, he might lose his family forever.

;o;o;o;o;o;

**AWWWYEAAAAH. Also, those who were confused at my last chapter, go to my profile and look around. I put a summary of what happened in there.**

**~Until the next update!**


	6. Chapter 5: We're stupid

**Hahaha, longer chapters? Those are for SISSY BABIES. Okay I'm sorry. Its short. You can kill me. BUT I HATE WRITING ON NOTEBOOK PAPER MY HAND REALLY HURTS AFTER OKAY. ;; Also, chapter 6 in progress YOU'RE WELCOME. Enjoy.**

**I DON'T OWN ASSASSIN'S CREED. If I did, Alty would be married to me, not Maria. (no offense Maria you rock.)**

;o;o;o;o;o;

Chapter 5: We're stupid

And so the search was on. It had been almost a week since the day it first started. Altaïr would wake up, eat, and after Danielle got home from work, they would get in the thing she told him was a "car", and drive until dark, eat, then sleep. But as the days past, Altaïr couldn't help but think that it was hopeless, but Danielle wouldn't give up. He respected her for that.

The assassin was somewhat grateful he met her. He would still be lost, hungry, and tired with absolutely nowhere to go.

Altaïr looked up at the clock and get up, realizing Danielle was probably in the car waiting for him. He sprinted outside, entering the seat next to her.

"Sorry," the assassin breathed deeply as he struggled with his "seatbelt", finally hearing it click.

"It's okay!" she smiled faintly before pulling out onto the "road", bypassing many buildings. He sighed before staring out the window, starting the search once again.

;o;o;o;o;o;

Nothing, once again. When they got home, Altaïr sunk into the couch, plopping next to Danielle.

"How about we take a break tomorrow," she began to speak, turning on the box that created moving pictures on it, "and do something fun?"

"Like what?" the assassin grumbled in reply. He had been grouchy recently, every night he would get less sleep from before. The dreams were haunting him. It always being about Maria and Darim and never seeing them again or them being harmed and it being all his fault.

"We could go to the beach," she suggesting, pulling the Master Assassin out of his thoughts.

"You have a beach here?" he asked, trying to hide his sudden fear.

Danielle nodded and Altaïr blinked. There might be a good chance that Maria and Darim could be there, and he was willing to try, at least.

"Okay, fine. When shall we go?"

Danielle replied a few moments later with, "Tomorrow, since it's Saturday anyways."

The Master Assassin grunted in reply, and the two quietly turned their attention to the TV for the rest of the afternoon.

Altaïr found himself nodding off, his eyes slowly closing and his head tilted. He groaned, prying his golden eyes open.

"You can go to sleep, Altaïr. You're not missing anything anytime soon," Danielle spoke softly, and when he looked up at her, he saw her eyes were shining with concern. He muttered an "okay", but didn't move from the couch, figuring he could take a quick nap right where he was.

;o;o;o;o;o;

The next morning, the Master Assassin was awoken by a hand shaking his shoulder gently. He peered through his blurry gaze.

"Nnng, what?" his sleepiness disappeared instantly, and he saw Danielle hovering over him.

"Good morning!" she said loudly, and Altaïr winced slightly at the loudness, grumbling an inaudible reply.

"What time is it? Why must you wake me up?" he demanded, pushing her away gently and sat up on the couch.

"It's almost nine," she said, grinning, "you must have been tired. We're going to the beach, remember?"

Realization shot through him as he took in her words. The Arab blinked slowly and nodded, indicating that he did remember.

"Alright, good. We'll be leaving shortly," Danielle replied, "Here's some swim trunks. They were my brother's and I figure they will fit you." She handed him some silky-feeling shorts, and Altaïr took them and made his way towards the bathroom. He sighed, knowing for him it was going to be a long day searching for Maria and Darim once again.

;o;o;o;o;o;

They arrived at Miami Beach about an hour later. When Altaïr stepped out of the car, the ocean breeze hit his face, and he crinkled his nose at the salty smell.

The assassin didn't tell Danielle about his fear of water, no, he had to much pride to admit such an embarrassing fear. As they stepped closer and closer to the clear blue water, Altaïr had a feeling he should of at least mentioned it to the girl.

There were kids playing in the sand, and women laying on their towels wearing very revealing clothing. The large waves crashed loudly onto the shore, leaving and bringing in all sorts of shells. The Arab jumped back when the salty water almost touched his foot.

Children pushed past him, jumping fearlessly into the water. Suddenly, Altaïr grew uncomfortable, and made his way towards Danielle.

"You getting in?" she asked as he came within earshot of her.

He shook his head. "Uh, maybe later. I'm not in the mood right now." He added an "ever" to the end of his sentence silently.

"Well, alright then," she shrugged and left him alone to wade into the water.

The Master Assassin felt the heat shine on him, and he wiped his forehead. It was way to hot to be outside doing nothing. He stuck his hands into his shorts' pockets, walking on the shore, a long distance away from the engulfing water.

;o;o;o;o;o;

The day continued on with loudness and Danielle trying to coax Altaïr into the water. She had failed miserably; nothing would make the assassin budge. Danielle had seemed disappointed and he ended up feeling a bit bad.

Another disappointing thing was there was, once again, no sign or sighting of his beloved tower lover. As he stared out of the car window, he hoped that they were okay and doing well.

He felt a hand lay on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see the girl's face full of confidence.

"We'll find them," she said, determined, and for a quick moment, Altaïr wanted to believe her.

;o;o;o;o;o;

Months had passed, and still no sight of them. Altaïr believed that if Danielle wasn't there to keep him going, he would of given up a long time ago.

It was a dark, winter night when the assassin finally got the courage he needed to ask a question that he had been wondering for quite a while.

"Danielle," the Master Assassin started, saying her name carefully, "How big is the world?"

She shot him a look full of shock. "Um, well..." she trailed off, blinking, "Actually, come follow me. I should probably show you then try to explain it." And with that, she got off the couch and approached a machine that was called a "laptop". The brunette had explained the device to him a while back.

She started it up and the Arab waited patiently.

"Okay, come look at this," she said, and Altaïr stared at the screen over her shoulder.

"This is the world," Danielle explained, pointing to a spherical shape. "This is where we are currently, Miami, Florida. Now, I believe you friends are not anywhere near us. They would be anywhere."

"But..the world looks so huge!" he pointed out.

"Exactly! They could be in Italy, Michigan, China, or maybe even Syria!"

Altaïr stopped breathing when she said the last word. Why didn't he think of this before? It all connected now.

"Syria..." he said thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "That's it!"

"Huh?"

"What if they are in Syria? That is where they are from, and me as well. What if they appeared there instead?"  
>"I don't know. I mean, what if you're wrong and they aren't?" Danielle said, frowning.<p>

"Trust me, Danielle. I mean, it all makes sense!" the Master Assassin couldn't hold his excitement, and she stared at him, then started to nod slowly.  
>"Alright, I believe you. The only way to get there is by plane."<p>

"...Plane...?"

;o;o;o;o;o;

**I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'VE BEEN SO BUSY.**

**HAHAHAH thats an excuse that people ALWAYS use! Anyways, chapter six should be up by this week. I have fall break next week and I'll be with my dad, so I probably won't update until the week after that. SORRY. D:**

**Until the next gawd darned update!**


	7. Chapter 6: Planes suck

**SHORTEST AUTHOR'S NOTE EVER. HAHAHA. MERRY CHRISTMAS YOU GET CONFUSED ALTY ABOUT BIG GIANT PLANE. WOOO.**

**DISCLAIMER: I WILL NEVER OWN ASSASSIN'S CREED. ASDJFHK**

;o;o;o;o;o;

Chapter 6: Planes suck

The past week had been a rush. After deciding to go to Jerusalem, the days were filled with getting a flight, booking a place to stay and scrambling up money. Danielle had even taken Altaïr out to buy more clothing for him, as well as hygiene stuff. The assassin had been amazed when she had shown him toothbrush and toothpaste.

Danielle also had to get off work, which was apparently hard since they didn't know how long they were going to be gone. But after a few days of convincing, her "boss" finally gave in and agreed.

Somehow, they also fit in on teaching him about the plane. Danielle said people react to it differently. She then tried to explain everything about it without cramming the assassin's head.

"There's this thing called jet lag," Danielle explained in the living room, the night before they left. "It's when you go on a airplane for a long time, you normally get it. Um, most symptoms are interrupted sleep, confusion, sleeping longer, and lack of motivation."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Got it, I think."

The brunette chewed on her thumb nail before continuing, "I think you'll be fine. I also got you something for the trip to take up your time." She dug around into a plastic bag, pulling out a slim, black rectangle.

"This," Danielle started, "is called a PSP, or a Playstation Portable. You play video games on it, and it really takes up your time anywhere, and good for long trips like these."  
>"Thank you," Altaïr said, taking the device from her.<p>

"You should probably get some rest, we have a long day ahead of us."

He nodded and left the room, throwing a quiet "goodnight" over his shoulder. The assassin stepped into his room, stripping from his clothes and climbed into bed. Sleep soon took him, nightmares haunting his peaceful sleep.

;o;o;o;o;o;

After two long hours or showing tickets, checking in baggage, and going through long lines of security, the duo made their way to their gate.

"What gate is it, Altaïr?" she asked him, slinging her carry-on bag over her shoulder.

"Uh.." his gold eyes scanned over his ticket, "it says 24C here."

"Okay, follow me then," Danielle commanded, and the Master Assassin clung to her side as they maneuvered through the crowd.

The brunette soon stopped by a large area with a big blue sign hanging down that said the gate information. They picked two seats and sat down, and Altaïr stared out the window, awaiting for the plane to come. His thoughts took over him.

Would they really find Maria and Darim in Jerusalem? What if his calculations were completely wrong? Then this trip would be completely wasted, and the time they would spend there could have been spent on searching in Miami or researching on places they could possible be. He sighed softly, stretching into his very uncomfortable seat, putting his legs way out in front of him. Altaïr slumped back into his chair, taking his position of staring out the window once again.

;o;o;o;o;o;

"Altaïr," a voice said, "Look! The plane is here! We are about to board soon."

The assassin was shaken out of his deep thoughts, but his mouth fell open at what he saw. A huge machine was out the window, with wings that stretched out from it. It had tons of windows, and the spinning things looked dangerous.

"It's..." he couldn't finish his sentence, his gold eyes scanning the plane over and over again. Danielle rolled her eyes and grinned.

"Just wait until you get inside. It's not as big as you think it would be!"

But even though she said that, he was still fascinated as he stepped inside of it.

"You get in first, I think you should have window seat for your first time." she grinned again and Altaïr nodded, climbing into the seat farthest away from the aisle.

When the airplane took off, the assassin death-gripped the armrest, not liking that weird feeling in his stomach of being so high in the air. Sure, he had climbed really tall buildings before, but that was nothing compared to this.

He took a deep breath and looked out the window, then widened his eyes. They were so far up, higher then he had ever been. Clouds were scattered below them, but he could still see the land, getting smaller and smaller as they increased into the sky.

Altaïr shook his head and pulled out the "PSP", wondering how the strange device worked.

"Oh!" Danielle said, pulling out a tiny circle with a hole in it, handing it to him. "This is a game, it's called Grand Theft Auto. Pretty much you drive around and kill people and such," she explained, putting the game in and turned it on. Suddenly light filled the screen, causing a glow to form. The brunette messed with it for a bit before showing him how to play, and Altaïr got the hang of it very quickly.

After long hours of playing on the portable thing and admiring the plane, the flight attendants walked up the aisle, handing the passengers pillows and blankets.

"How long do we have left?" the Master Assassin asked Danielle as he readjusted his pillow.

She hesitated before replying, "We'll probably be there in the morning, hopefully. Or earlier."

He nodded and turned his head towards the glass. Altaïr watched the bright sky go pitch black, and he closed his eyes.

;o;o;o;o;o;

The Arab didn't sleep that night. Not at all. Sleeping in planes was apparently impossible for him, and he didn't understand how everyone else could do it.

Altaïr was left with the luggage as Danielle went to peer through the crowds to find her grandmother. She told him the she had offered to take them in, and she made him promise not to say anything about himself not being from their time.

He kept that information clear in his mind as he saw Danielle approach him with an elderly woman behind her.

"Grandma, this is my friend, Altaïr. Altaïr, this is my grandma, but you can just call her Farhah."

She smiled at him and he slowly let himself relax, shaking her frail, outstretched hand, a thing Danielle had taught him.

"You're name means eagle; it suits you very well," Farhah said thoughtfully. "Are you from Syria?"

"Well, you could say that, I guess." he replied, feeling uncomfortable.  
>"Well," she started, releasing his hand, "Lets get going then."<p>

Altaïr and Danielle both nodded, and the brunette ran up to have a conversation with her grandma. It was obvious that they hadn't seen each other in a long time.

They exited the Ben Gurion International Airport and finally Farhah stopped in front of a dark gray car.

"Altaïr, be a dear and put this luggage in the trunk please," Farhah commanded and the assassin nodded silently, doing as he was told.

As they finally piled in and drove off, Altaïr felt nervous on how Jerusalem was going to look in this time period. He saw kids playing in the yards, buildings followed by buildings. It didn't look any different from Miami, and he wondered if the Bureau was still there. He thought about his friend, Malik and how his greeting to Altaïr was always yelling. The Master Assassin smiled faintly at that memory.

His mind switched to Danielle and Farhah talking up front. He tried to ignore them, forcing them out of his mind, but it didn't work. A headache had started to form, and Altaïr grimaced. All he wanted to do was sleep.

And sleep he did.

;o;o;o;o;o;

**I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY TO THIS. WORST. CHAPTER. EVER. YOU CAN KILL ME. SEE YOU GUYS NEXT SATURDAY OR SOMETHING. KLDJHGFDKL;'**


	8. Chapter 7: His time to shine

**I'm sorry this is so late and so short. I'll explain everything AFTER the story. :/**

**Disclaimer: I'm never doing these again. Last time: I DON'T OWN AC. Sjkald**

;o;o;o;o;o;

Chapter 7: His time to shine

The sun hovered high in the bright blue sky, its terribley hot rays falling down onto the heated people crowding the sidewalks and streets. A little boy tried to push his way through with no luck. With his short height, no one noticed him. He seemed practically invisible.

He didn't know where he was. He didn't notice anything that looked familiar. No, he hadn't seen anything like what his eyes usually knew. And he didn't like this one bit.

A loud machine rumbled past him and the boy flinched, his ears ringing in a strange manner. This world frightened him gravely. The people would glare down if he accidently bumped into them. Even when he let out a squeaky apology, they would rudely grumble to themselves and walk away like nothing ever happened. The small child always felt anger dwell up in him, but after serious concentration about what his mother would do, it would slowly fade.

He sniffed softly. Whenever he thought of his mother, tears would cloud his vision. He hated being away from her. She was the closest thing he had. The boy just wanted to go into her arms and never let go. But he realized that feeling made him go on to find her. He wiped at his eyes sadly, trying to be strong for her.

It was hard. For a month, maybe more, maybe less, he's been begging for food, drinking water that was probably contaiminated, and ignoring the sores, cuts and bruises all over his tiny body. Whenever he tried to speak, his throat burned so badly he gave up talking for good. Usually if the boy pointed to his stomach and did his best angel face that usually got him out of trouble, his belly would be satsified, even if it was for a little while.

The boy wouldn't know how much longer he would last.

;o;o;o;o;o;

"Is he awake?"

"Hush, Hafa."

A 'hmph' was heard followed by a stomping foot. The boy stirred, trying to block the voices out of his head with no luck.

"Look Fath, he moved!" A tiny girl's voice filled his ears. Sighing softly, he opened his eyes slowly, blinking at what he saw.

A little girl with long, dark brown hair and huge blue eyes peered over him. She looked around seven, although her tiny body would make people think otherwise. On his other side stood an older man. The boy guessed he was most likely seventeen at the most. His face was ful of kindness, his caramel-colored eyes bright and his short, black hair didn't move from its place on his tan forehead.

Fath nodded slowly. "So I see, kiddo." His voice was deep sounding, and he cleared his throat. "You okay?" He turned his attention back to the little boy.

He nodded faintly.

"Well, that's a good sign."

No answer.

"Alright then." Fath looked awkward, shifting from foot to foot. "I'm Fath, and this is Hafa. We found you unconcious on the street a little ways down from here, so we took you in."

"Yeah!" Hafa piped up, "It was so sad." The boy looked down. "So, what's your name?" He noticed that she had changed the subject quickly.

Silence formed between the three and the boy coughed softly, sighing.

"Darim," he croaked out, his voice cracking. He didn't even recognize it.

"Nice name," Fath commented. "You look young. Where are you from? What happened to your parents?"

Darim didn't like being questioned like this. He was tired, and not to mention starving. He shifted nervously in his bed, holding up four tiny, shaky fingers to indicate his age. Then he shrugged twice to Fath's last questions.

Hafa broke into his actions. "You are young! I'm eight, and Fath is fifteen!"

"Don't jump on the boy," Fath noted at the girl and spoke to Darim. "You can stay if you want. We have food, but you'd have to share a room with Hafa." He grinned mischieviously.

She crossed her arms, stomping her foot. "I'm not that bad!" The boy cracked a small smile then made it vanish quickly. He nodded.

"Okay..." he squeaked out, still half-wary of the children. Then, to Darim's embarrassment, his stomach growled loudly, and Fath grinned again.

"Come on, let's get you some food."

;o;o;o;o;o;

**Okay, I'm sorry this is so late and short. After fall break, some personal things happened. Well, I guess personal. I want to tell everyone just in case someone can help me. Just maybe.**

**Last Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday my male chocolate lab, Reagan, woke me up at 3:30am having seizures. I thought nothing of it. I told my mom Tuesday morning when she woke me up, but she said I must have been dreaming. But when she walked downstairs, he was currently having one. He urinated all over the floor in 4 rooms, so my mom threw him outside for the whole day. THE WHOLE DAY IN OVER 90 DEGREE WEATHER. Now that made me mad. I got home from school Tuesday afternoon, I went straight to the backyard. He wouldn't get up. He just wouldn't. I stayed out there with him till my mom got home, and we took him to the vet. Now, she didn't help us at all. AT ALL. Like honestly. I was so mad at them. So we got home, gave Reagan his medicine, and he seemed fine. And when I woke up, he seemed perfectly fine. After school, I went back to the backyard where my mom put him again all day. Me and my best friend found him laying down, panting heavily, foam in his mouth and his eyes were clouded. I knew he was dying. So Wednesday, October 26th, Reagan Schmidt was put down and I was there the whole way. **

**I can't get over it. Today was a week marking his death, and I'm miserable, depressed, and I miss my handsome dog. If anyone has gotten through with this, please PM me. Because I can't.**

**I'm sorry for such a long A/N. I just believe you guys deserve a good excuse. **

**Bye.**


	9. AN

I'm really sorry to say this, but I don't think I can finish this story. I'm a terrible writer and I think I have rushed it too much.

But trust me, I loved writing this. I don't know if the readers enjoyed it, but I think it was okay.

I honestly have lost my thing for writing since my dog died. I don't really find joy in it anymore. And yes, that does mean A Little Piece Of Bread is over too.

I'm really sorry, you guys don't even know.

But, I'm so thankful for your guys' support and everything, but I've lost interest.

Until next time.


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